tv [untitled] December 1, 2012 3:30pm-4:00pm PST
sexy, cruel as all get out. and then the song ends. and i notice the woman sitting next to me crying. and after the play is over, after the standing ovation of tony's brave and beautiful play, as people start to leave the theater, this woman, she remains in her chair and it seems she cannot move. i gently asked her if she's all right. and she nods. and she says without looking at me because she couldn't look at me, "i got to see my mayor again." so, maybe through art we can see again. about a month ago i braved going to the sf moment to check out the infamous bust of my dad and all i could remember growing up were the images of that controversial pedestal of gunshots and twinkies and don't think i didn't smile when i heard hostess went under. [laughter] (applause) but when i went to see the bust
for that first time, a bust that i have to admit captured george's mile wide grin and dramatically imperfect teeth, i saw on the pedestal so many things that i didn't know were there. i saw the names of my brothers and sister inside a heart, my dad's favorite movie, quotes by him how much he considered being mayor, honor bestowed on him, and the things made possible for people who didn't have power, who didn't have voice, there was so much more on that pedestal than death. and, so, i think it's time to reclaim george moscone from the narcissistic legacy or the senselessness of dan white or the well intentioned world of hollywood or the better intentioned world of theater. it's time to reclaim him from the places where the real george gets lost in the story of others, even in my own. and we gift him back to the city and to the people, to his friends and to his colleagues and to the citizens who are the fabric and texture and color of san francisco. so, all of us can stop looking
at the death of george moscone and start to put him firmly in our hearts so we can see the likes of him in new community leaders, young artists, queer and colorful, innovators and students, all inside our magnificently and uniquely diverse and never-changing city. san francisco will never be what it was, nothing in life will be. but as i heard recently, we are always nostalgic for a time that never was and often wanting to avoid a future that is inevitable. will change in san francisco as in everywhere is inevitable. and change can be beautiful. we are all of us the agents of change. as george and harvey were. each one of us is the story teller of our lives and the lives of the people we've lost. and that wasn't always the case, as willie mentioned. but because of the likes of george and harvey and so many others, all the way to our mayor ed lee, all of us have voice. all of us can tell the story.
so, let's crowd source this thing. let's tell the real stories of george and harvey. stories of their hard work and politics and the families and loved ones who surrounded them, of the moments we met them on the street or on their campaigns, in the castro or north beach, the vacations, the arguments, the jokes they told, the wild times they lived through, the change they made, and the lives they lived. thank you. (applause) >> thank you, jonathan. that was beautiful. i think this is a nice segue
into the san francisco gay men's chorus who have been standing here patiently. i would like to introduce them and thank them so much for being here. they're going to sing "love can build a bridge for us." [cheering and applauding] >> [inaudible]. ♪ i gladly walk across the desert with no shoes upon my feet to share with you the last bite of bread i had to eat and all -- and i would swim
out to save you in your sea of broken dreams when with all your hopes are sinking let me show you what love means ♪ let us build a bridge [speaker not understood] ♪ let us build a bridge don't you think it's time don't you think it's time let us stand together [speaker not understood] we can do anything anything anything keep believing in our hearts
[speaker not understood] love can build a bridge ♪ [speaker not understood] ♪ [speaker not understood] don't you think it's time, don't you think it's time love can build a bridge [speaker not understood] ♪ ♪ yes, it's time ♪ [cheering and applauding] >> you have two men who were never afraid to be who they were, even if it meant being different, even if it meant going against the grain. and i think that oftentimes as
historic figures become part of the mainstream, we forget that what's so unusual and so unique about george moscone and harvey milk is the fact that they were not afraid to go against the mainstream. and i think that's something that often gets forgotten. and one thing that i want to say, especially when it comes to harvey milk and what he represents to me -- and i say this not only as a gay man, but as a gala -- gay latino man -- for me harvey milks legacy was not so much about lgbt rights, though that was part of it. for me harvey milk was about civil rights and the rights of all people and the recognition that we as minimum bier of the lgbt community are connected to other communities, and that we cannot be for lgbt rights if we're also not for the rights
of other groups. that we cannot be -- (applause) >> -- only about the lgbt community. that if you believe in gay rights and lgbt rights, that you necessarily have to be for the rights of immigrants. that you necessarily have to be for the rights of women. that you necessarily have to be for the right for anyone who is disinfranchised in society. that to me is the essence of that legacy. * and why it's a legacy that transcends, transcends the lgbt community in terms whatv harvey milk was about. so, as an openly gay latino man, i am grateful for that legacy. and i am grateful that harvey milk, that george moscone, have become a beacon of light and hope not only for the lgbt community, but for so many communities throughout this country. and not just this country, but the world. and, so, that is what's so special, is that it's a legacy
that transcends san francisco and it's truly a worldwide legacy. so, it is my honer to be here tonight. i also want to acknowledge a couple of people that are in the audience. * honor we saw the acknowledgments of the mayors, of the members of the board of supervisors. i also see former supervisor bevan dufty who is in the audience that represented the castro district that was also represented by harvey milk. (applause) >> i see our city attorney, dennis herrera who is here and whose office has been fighting for the rights of our community to marry the person they love. (applause) >> so thank you, dennis. i see donna who is another institution in the lgbt community. [cheering and applauding] >> so, in closing, i want to say that the way that i remember george moscone, the way that i remember harvey milk is to simply be true to who i am and to not be afraid to be
who i am, even if it means doing and being something that is unpopular at times. thank you. (applause) >> thank you so much, supervisor. i wanted to acknowledge our co-sponsors today, the san francisco -- san francisco. the harvey milk foundation which was started by stuart milk and myself, worked to put this on in partnership with the san francisco harvey milk gay democratic club, gay and lesbian democratic club, the harvey milk civil rights academy and of course the gay men's chorus who are performing here tonight. so, on that note i'm going to turn this over to my dear friend stuart who is harvey's nephew and someone himself who has been speaking out all around the world for civil rights and equality for all. stuart? [cheering and applauding]
>> thank you. it's very interesting thanksgiving this week. i was mentioning to the moscone family did not fall on this remembrance. and therefore, the milk family, we were all together and we actually had a little bit more joy because we did have a week that separated it. it's a very tough time for my family since 1978. it's difficult to try to explain. i don't think i could have done as good of a job as jonathan, how tough that is. harvey was a part of every milestone, large and small in my life, for 17 years. and i just can't attempt to explain that loss in words. but there is a connection with the emotions that jonathan shared and that i have shared with rebecca that goes beyond
my ability to put the warmth of these remembrances here in san francisco, the meaning of that. for me it has been a bright spot that in sometimes frigid temperatures i've been here and you all have come out and warmth we've come out. we've walked actually together to the castro and we've walked back from the castro here. we've interchanged that over the years. but that does give a lot of solace to the milk family and i deeply appreciate that. my uncle's legacy is being kept alive, not just by those wonderful people that we see here who spoke, the mayor and mayor brown, mayor lee, those that have gone on into the state senate and the state assembly, by those that have gone on to the national stage representing not only the lgbt
community, but every marginalized community we've had in this country. the chorus that i'll talk about in a minute who got their first public performance on the night that harvey and george were taken from us. but mayor brown called them two extraordinary individuals. actually, mayor brown shared that with me four years ago. it has stayed with me. harvey and george, they put in place, as the mayor said, a foundation of what we see today in equality and justice. we actually live in an extraordinary time because of the shoulders created by george and harvey. we live in an extraordinary moment because each of you believe you're worthy because each of you have a gift of authenticity to offer the world. and each of you are here tonight with not only the moscone and milk family, but the true meaning of the human family, in remembrance of the sacrifices that have taken us
to get us here and as a sacred reminder not to forget and not to go back. supervisor ammiano very brilliantly brought up harvey was tremendously impacted by world war ii. i wear his class ring from high school. he graduated in 1947, just a couple years after the end of world war ii. he could never understand how communities could turn on themselves. and he was, i really think he made a sacred intention to light that message to the world, that we can't go back. in the u.s. today we have so much to be proud of. the last door that i knocked on on november the 5th campaigning for president obama, a dignified elderly 92 year old woman named bernice opened the door in my get out the vote identification, identified her supporting equality. and she looked at me and she
looked at my official obama pen that said lgbt for obama and she looked at me with tears in her eyes and she said, our time has really come, hasn't it? we both cried. that moment with bernice takes some of the pain of this day away. on this day i always feel a heightened affinity with my uncle for this was that night 34 years ago that i had to first reflect on my own conversations with harvey. anyone who has had conversations with harvey will know, you cannot get away easy. and he didn't let me as a teenager get away easy either. i had to reflect about the meaning of those conversations. it was a day that i had to look hard at what his love and guidance would mean to me that that was gone, that i could only think of the words and the
conversations that we had. my uncle was moved by all extraordinary heroes of authenticity that he would see, particularly when it wasn't pretty or easy for them. that is in many ways where the milk foundation is today. we will go where no one else will go. we will go when other organizations and activists had said no. we will go where there seems to be little hope. harvey -- i feel this tremendous affinity when i see a tape of a newscaster saying to harvey, we couldn't get anyone else, so, we got you. and harvey said, i know, you couldn't find anyone else, you got me. let's discuss the issues. because we usually -- i usually am the last person called, so, we don't say no, we go. so, let me introduce you tonight to just one person who represents thousands across the world. his name is malan rosa.
i told jonathan this story and i decided to include it here. he's someone who reached out to us because he couldn't get anyone else. central europe last year, budapest, the czech republic had gone from a leading country in central europe, leading the region in laws and in the constitution of equality 16 years ago to a complete reversal today. it's got one of the worst records today of the deprivation of rights of women, roma people, jews, and lgbt people. sound familiar, that grouping? i was not prepared for what i was going to find in budapest. i was not prepared for the thousands ofneo nazis and state sanctioned militia that would meet a couple hundred marchers, thousands of them. * there was one young man, 21 years old, young hungarian, who would be the only person to go
on tv with me, only hungarian, malan would take a blow horn and walk through the streets against families that hated us, and he walked and he shouted and he kept the morale up as we were walking against this sea of people who didn't like us because we were representing the inclusion and diversity that we so much cherish here. he was inspired by the story of my uncle and he said to me, do you think this is how harvey felt? and i said to him, it's exactly how harvey felt. now, after the march i learned that malan had refused to go into the one sponsor that the pride had left, which was a bar, because they wouldn't let in people from the roma community. and he said, no, that is not the way we're going to do things. and he wouldn't go in. when i left and when i landed
back in the u.s., i found out that malan also had another struggle. he went home that night and because he was on tv and because he was the spokesperson for hungarian pride, he walked in to find his father hanging. malan's courage doesn't end there. i spent a long time that week skyping with him, encouraging him to go on. he was very depressed. i got an urgent call a week later for the first pride ever in prague. and the president of the czech republic, this is 2011, said, ask the people, president class, to rise up and put down the lgbt pride to stop -- to stop the promotion of homosexualism and deviancy. and i went. and when i was picked up at the
airport, they said that they were struggling with one of those street-long rainbow flags, but they had reached out across central europe and there was a young man who heard their call and was taking a nine-hour overnight bus to bring them that street-long pride flag. his name was malan rosa. i said, i want to go pick him up. he had no place to stay. he had to scrounge up the money. but this is the type of courage that we see following harvey and george around the world. he had just buried his father who blamed his suicide on his son. he was weary and bruised, yet he still got up and did what needs to be done. extraordinary individuals. so, let me just say that for malan's story, i have the honor
next month -- i had been invited to the white house, and i'm taking malan with me to introduce him to the president and the first lady. and i & i'm taking malan because i want him and hundreds of activists that have faced a life very much like what harvey and george faced 34 years ago, i want them to know that they have a president, that they have mayors, that they have supervisors, that they have family members, that they have a nation and a continent that is not just moving ourselves forward with equality, but we're not going to leave them behind, that we stand there with them. [cheering and applauding] >> let me close with the words of my uncle, many of very few people have heard some of my uncle's words. i love the fact that jonathan
brought up hollywood. my uncle was not someone who met someone on a subway and said, i didn't do anything in the first half of my life. that's good for hollywood. the reality is that he had in his very makeup a belief in justice and equality. for in 1951, my uncle was writing a column at albany state teachers college about -- and i'm going to read you -- the one that he wrote entitled ordinary and extraordinary. sometimes i think harvey almost makes these things happen that we all talked about the same thing. so, he said in the article, "i have yet to meet anyone who was ordinary, on this campus or at any time in my 21 years -- he was 21. now, i've met people who believed they are ordinary. i've met people who believed most of us -- most of those around them are ordinary. people who have been told they do not have something special inside of them, people who have
forgotten the hope that begins in their own heart. i have played on many ball teams. i have never heard the propaganda of average and ordinary feel either individual or collective success. i have never seen a successful culture hold up the legends of their sport as ordinary because ordinary is not our potential. when we find the courage to see that we and all around us are extraordinary, we find the courage to sing the song that rides inside of all of us, not only you and me, but all of us achieve. this writer is asking you to stop the next professor, to stop the next student, to stop the next lecture who calls you ordinary. or he says, a sports legend is ordinary, or anyone is ordinary. tell them no. tell them we are all -- we all have something extraordinary, a voice, a talent, a song.
it's not easy to hear that song that everyone has inside of them. it's not easy to see the extraordinary in everyone. but it's easy -- but easy is not our challenge. hope is the extraordinary. hope in the extraordinary is our challenge. hope in the extraordinary is what makes us human. " it's amazing harvey wrote that when he was 21. for all the bernices, for all the malan rosas. for all the beloved us's that my uncle would talk about, for you, as my uncle would say, and you, and you, and you, our time has come. we will not stop until we have equality across the globe. and that is what tonight means. thank you so much. [cheering and applauding]
>> thank you, stuart. that was spectacular. it really captured your uncle there. thank you. we're going to close with the san francisco gay men's chorus performing, singing for our lives. i had a couple of announcements. i hope you will all join us on the candle light march up to the castro. we have candles over here if people didn't bring them, so, you can pick them up at the start of our march. i also want to thank the san francisco police department who is going to help facilitate our march by closing blocks as we move up. so, they are going to be helping. and the chief is here, greg, you're out there someplace. (applause) >> thanks, there he is. thanks very much, fred. we love having a progressive police chief in town.
so, i want to thank all of my speakers here, all of our speakers tonight with some very inspirational words. and i want to thank each and every one of you for coming. i hope you will join us in the march, and we are going to end with the san francisco gay men's chorus performing "singing for our lives." thank you. >> let me just say that the story of this song was written on the way holley near and joan baez were coming here to 34 years ago to the steps of city hall. and she wrote this as an anthem, coming 34 years ago to the steps of city hall. so, holley nears, we are angry people. ♪ we are gentle angry people and we are singing, singing for our lives
we are [speaker not understood] speaking people and and we are singing singing for our lives we are a land of many colors and we are singing singing for our lives we are a land of many colors and we are singing singing for our lives we are gentle angry people and we are singing singing for our lives we are gentle angry people and we are singing